Her Eyes
by Snuffles4Eva
Summary: 'He looked at it, almost with disgust, for it was the spitting image of his school enemy. But closer inspection something told him that something was wrong. With shock, he gazed into the eyes he had never expected to see again. Something warmed inside of him. The eyes, they were hers.'


Her Eyes

By

Snuffles4Eva

**Disclaimer: This story would not be written if I owned this. It would not be possible.**

The cracks in the ceiling, once familiar, seemed alien to him now. There had once been a spark to the world, a twinkle, like magic, but a magic that not even the best of wizards could have produced. It could light up rooms, dazzle all in the vicinity. It was hers and hers alone. But now it was gone. The spark had fizzled out. It went with her, everywhere. It was with her now, he was sure of it.

A thin layer of dust covered the once immaculate room. The evanescent glow of the dying embers was the only light in the dark room. She hated the dark. It would never have been dark before. Somehow he knew. He knew. The truth. He would've given anything for it to be a lie. A bad dream. But the leap he made told him otherwise. You can't revise time. This was real.

His feet took him where he needed to go. Not even opening his eyes, tears seeped out of them, preparing for the sight he had never expected to see. The cold hit his body, freezing him, all the way down to his soul. It had once been warm in that room.

Black and white. Black and white; the colour had been sucked out of the room, like a Dementor sucks the soul out of a criminal. The colour had been sucked out, as he heard the news. Never again would he see like he did before. Never again. The world had a whole new meaning to him. Any false pretence, any false security he had been lulled into, it was long gone. It was as though the beam had been plucked out of his eyes. He knew what he had to do, and, anyone else can be screwed: He knew he had to make a difference.

'_Mudblood'_ He hated the word. It was vile, disgusting, prejudiced – life changing. He hated _Him_. Hatred coursed through his veins, making him see red. It had ruined him, ruined his life, and any chances of his dreams. Now it had destroyed him, just as it had destroyed her. He felt nauseous, sickened by his own actions, by his pride, his stupidity. Thinking he was something special. He was dirt, treating her like that. And where had it got him? Nowhere. Nowhere but the depths of despair.

Arriving at his destination he stood. Looking. Watching. Silent, inwardly weeping at his loss. Turning his head, he who had taken her from him lay there, lifeless, as was she. Glaring at him, him, his school rival. Kneeling next to her, taking her lifeless body in his arms, his agony overcame him, and he wept. He wept as he had never wept before. Her red hair, her captivating personality, flashes of her past boomed in his head, prolonging the torture.

He would never forgive himself. Never forgive himself for _that_ day. '_Mudblood'_. It echoes in his head forcing him to hate himself, his family, his heritage. He hated all he had ever stood for. Once he had been proud of being a Slytherin. Now he hung his head in shame. Being Slytherin was nothing to be proud of. It had been false, cowardly pride.

He looked at her face. She, who had utterly entranced him. She, who he loved as he had never loved anyone before, or will ever again. Her beautiful red hair, her fiery temper, the two characteristics went hand in hand, and he loved them. Her eyes, those brilliant emerald orbs, they would never open again. He sobbed as he realised he would never again see her teasing smiles, the way her eyes sparkled as she laughed, or the way her face wrinkled in frustration when she was puzzled.

A wail from the corner interrupted his grief. Shock absorbed him as he realised he was not the only living life form in the room. A brief glance told him it looked exactly like its father. Rage took hold of his body, as he glared down the small corridor, to the other lifeless body. It was his fault he was here now, holding her in his arms. It was his fault she was gone. She could have been his. But instead she chose his rival. With him she would've been safe. Now she was gone, and it was all his fault.

Another wail drew him back to the child. He looked at it, almost with disgust, for it was the spitting image of his school enemy. But closer inspection something told him that something was wrong. With shock, he gazed into the eyes he had never expected to see again. Something warmed inside of him. The eyes, they were hers.

He had her eyes.

….

**A/N: Oh my goodness, I've just depressed myself writing that. Still, tell me what you think, by reviewing! **

**Hope you enjoyed,**

**Snuffles4Eva**


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